Moss - The Silent Friendship
by Aphelien
Summary: After defeat of Sarffog the Reader suddenly left Quill, thus she decided, despite her uncle's protests, to return home so they could both rest. Still waiting for the mysterious spirit with a mask to rejoin her in search of King's Glass, she sets on her own sally, longing for new experiences . Join Quill in her adventures and meet a mute which taught her art of friendship.
1. By an inch

**Disclaimer** : This is a work of fiction using characters from the Moss game, which belongs to Polyarc, thus I am sure they are pleased to see them here on Fanfiction

 **Chapter 1 - By an inch**

For centuries there were feelings. Those we used to create varying types of bonds. Some of them connect our minds, others entangle our hearts or beliefs. But never in her life, did she feel a bond so strong and true, when The Reader chose her, the tiny white mouse of great heart and faith, out of all certainly bigger and more powerful creatures, to defeat the darkness plaguing her world. The connection so much different from everything she'd ever encountered. This mysterious being, cautiously watching her every move and guiding actions drawn out by the white mouse, became her silent guardian and advisor. But after the defeat of Sarffog - the dark-scaled snake, and, despite her uncle's protests, their journey back home for some much-needed rest, Quill found herself in desperate need of an adventure. She longed for new experiences. And since The Reader has disappeared for a longer while, as well as all the creatures of darkness Quill had unpleasantness of meeting during her grueling journey, still lurking in shadows and ruins, it all started to bore the mouse to the point she could not cope with the burning desire of new discoveries just like when she found the shard of glass. She felt tired and lonely. With no one to back her in clashes with the enemy, her uncle injured and Reader absent, Quill began losing her courage.

It was one of those days - a cold and rainy weather, weak sunlight painting bark and leaves with dull late summer colors, strong smell of wet grass and an unpleasant stench of rotting roots creating mysterious yet perturbing atmosphere. The effect only intensified by all the strange sounds of the forest's flora and fauna. Quill found herself in a small clearing with gargantuan oak trees and mossy stones surrounding a large muddy puddle. Wet soil clinging to her ruffled cream white fur and pink tail added weight to her small and already weary frame. Irritated by the mud and fatigued, she was on her way back home from another sally, looking for new adventures. But just as she was about to go through the gates of her home village, an odd looking vagrant with dark grey fur, doughy complexion and wrinkled face, wearing worn robes with holes in the fabric, came up to her and with a hint of sadness and worry in his green eyes he spoke - _Excuse me..., hi there young lady. Are you by any chance familiar with the name Quill? I'm looking for him to ask his help, but it seems to me he has gone out somewhere. Maybe you've seen him passing by?_

 _Why of course I've seen Quill! I am him… , I mean her. So, what bothers you, sir? - said Quill._

 _Wait, YOU are that great warrior who def... Ah, never mind. I..I need your help. I've asked one boy to fetch me some fresh herbs for my medicine since I am not strong enough to do it myself, but he's still out there and it will soon be dark. If he gets hurt, I will never forgive myself! What if a fox eats him, or some raven rips him to bits, or…_

 _Hey, hey, calm down and tell me what he looks like? And I wander what he's wearing? - she asked._

 _Oooh… I do not remember..._

 _Sir, if you want me to find him I need to know who I should be looking for! Please, try to recall his clothing or any distinctive marks!_

 _He had a bow on his back and carried wooden staff as far as I can remember. He was weird though, no talk, only nodded from time to time when I waited for an answer… - the vagrant exclaimed._

 _Well, it is not much, but I will do my best to find and get him to safety. I promise._

And with that Quill ran off into the forest, her body still aching and the heart pounding hard against her chest. She knew that the night was just around the corner, and even though the little mouse was fine with darkness and uneasiness which comes with it, finding another animal in such conditions and bringing it to the village could be a very hard, or even grueling task.

While with the Reader, Quill could use his glow to navigate through the dense forest, but now her only sources of light were the moon and a small torch she had brought in her backpack, in case she would not make her way back to the village before dusk. The sun began it's ceremonial, hiding behind treetops and forest's thick foliage, leaving the small and messy white furred heroine in the orange light silhouette. Quill tore through grass and small bushes, wandering deeper into the wilderness, trying to search for any clues to where this young archer could be. Legs slightly shaking due to the strain forbid her running, and the arms had no more strength to pull her up any ledge. Quill was utterly exhausted. She desperately needed a break, but there was someone's life in danger and she had to keep moving. But the further she went, the more her head started spinning. Before the tiny mouse could hold on to something, she tripped over a root and landed in a puddle of mud. Too tired to move, Quill fought the urge to close her eyes and let a deep sleep take away all the strenuousness.

Then out of nowhere came the sound so fierce and horrifying, penetrating every inch of Quill's body with fear. She jumped up with new power to run away from its source. Her heart thumping against ribs faster than ever made her turn back, but just before she would head out a reminder of the task came to her mind. Maybe a creature creating such a terrifying roar was provoked to do so. Maybe it was angry at something - the mouse she was looking for! Turning on her heel, Quill gathered all the courage she could muster and ran in the direction of sound which still ringed in her large ears.

Running through the dense forest foliage she came to a stop by an area covered with mossy stones of different shapes and sizes, surrounded by dark pines and tall beeches. She had to catch her breath and while resting, Quill took in her surrounding, scanning for clues to where her objective or the source of that horrifying sound could be. But there was no one there, everything was quiet except for crickets and owls somewhere far away. She walked around the clearing but found nothing. Her eyes teared up as all hope left her. She failed and that archer she was supposed to find was probably dead because she was not fast or smart enough to rescue him. Huge guilt dropped down on Quill's heart and she felt a lump in her throat.

The tiny mouse was ready to leave, so she turned around to go back. Then, where would she go? The shame of letting someone die was too great of a burden for her already weakened spirit, and villagers will surely pounce on her for such a failure. But before she could come with an answer, cold sweat run down her neck when her eyes met with two glowing orange orbs and shining fangs gleaming back at her in the deepening nigritude of an approaching night. A black silhouette of wolf towering above her like one of those old oaks made her heart skip a beat.

She quickly glanced around her surroundings for an escape route only to find herself out in the open - no cover, no distraction, no chance to run. Her mind started panicking as Quill waited for an imminent death. Memories of her past came rushing violently before the little heroine's eyes, but before she could make last amends with her life, someone's hand grabbed hers and yanked her out of the wolf's pointy teeth. The animal had missed it's pounce as Quill lost her footing and toppled over a nearby rock. In a matter of seconds, she met the eyes of the other mouse and immediately recognized him to be the guy she was looking for. Yet there was no time for her to take in his appearance as the wolf made another strike, this time grazing the archer who, stunned by their fall, did not see the oncoming blow. Quill quickly dashed to him and pushed away from danger as the wolf snapped his jaws right where they just have been. She drew her sword ready to defend herself, but the other mouse was already aiming at their offender's nose planting two accurate shots, drawing wolf's attention to the arrows painfully sticking out of it, thereby buying them some precious time to hide. She felt him take her hand once again as he dragged her in the direction of the nearest tree hollow. While still running Quill saw him draw another arrow - shooting once again beneath the hollow's entrance he created some kind of horizontal rod to help them reach it. As they reached to the base of a tree she caught a glance of the horrifying wolf reading itself for another pounce. They were short on time and her helper was wounded and out of breath. She made a quick decision and impaled her sword into the wood, creating a small step to aid his climb, simultaneously putting together her opened hands to boost him up to it.

 _Come on, I will help you reach it! -_ Quill commended, fierce determination to survive burning in her irises.- _Hurry up!_

Unfortunately that son-of-a-rat predator was cutting the distance between them in no time and was already close. Quill felt the other mouse's foot on her hands and turned her attention back to the archer shakily making his way up to the hollow. As soon as he stepped off her, she grabbed that sticking out arrow and pulled herself up, and just in time. A mere second after she reached the entrance, the wolf's teeth made contact with a trunk and shook the entire tree. The white mouse had missed her demise by an inch. Exhausted and terrified, her heart still racing, body terribly aching and lungs burning, Quill felt herself losing consciousness and after a short while she fell asleep.

 **A/N**

Hello there, it is nice to meet you. I am Pan Jogurtek. It might confuse you, but the nickname (believe me no matter what, you pronounce it wrong) originates from the country I live in which is Poland. The direct translation is Mr Yoghurt but you shall call me MC Yoghurt. That is also why I would really appreciate it if you could help me out with my mistakes so together we could create something unique.

Also, sorry for the big... I mean huge... well humongous, or even gargantuan delay. Last year was a bit stressing and full of work, but 2019 came crashing on me like a 18 wheels of steel with new problems. Do not worry thought, chapter 2 is on its way and it is going to be twice (maybe even thrice) as long as the first one.


	2. Acquaintanceship with new friend

Chapter 2 – Acquaintanceship with silence

After the rainy night, there came one of those well known refreshing mornings, full of cool and moisty air, which brought yet again the smell of wet grass and sweet wild strawberries. Everything seemed to become less repulsing and insipid. The tall trees catching the rising sunlight, mossy stones seeking warmth to get rid of all the yesterday's raindrops. A sweet smell of wild berries and hazel was carried by the gentle wind that danced around tall pines and seasoned oaks. On a clearing just a few paces away from the thick forest there hopped a small group of rabbits; a doe with her kits, not far from them a proud buck stood overlooking the place, keeping his family out from any danger. The quiet buzzing of dragonflies and bees circling around a small pond mixed with the crunching of dry leaves and grass as animals started arriving to have their fair share of life-giving water.

The whole forest turned from wicked and haunted, colors of browns, greys and bottle green to more inviting warm orange, golden yellow, and vivid emerald. Scary sounds of owls and wolves gave the place to the cheerful chirping of sparrows and blackbirds.

And yet there was dull pain and swither inside the little white mouse's head as Quill rose her trembling body, all the strain still present in every muscle. Her vision and mind were a little blurred as she tried to regain her remaining senses. After a few attempts, she was able to sit up without leaning against the wall of the hollow. But wait… How did she end up here in the first place? And how long was she unconscious?

Taking in her surroundings she found her gear – the trusty fresh-green, pristine smithed sword and sturdy elbow-high gauntlet, both made out of leaves hardened by true magic, stashed in a little corner next to what appeared to be a bedding made of little wood shavings, just like the one she was resting on a short while ago. On the floor next to her bed rested her backpack filled with food, water and navigation tools. Though Quill could not find her red bandana. Maybe she lost it while she was running from that overdeveloped mongrel… Shame, it was her favorite.

The tree hollow in which Quill rested was a bit small but nonetheless big enough for three or four mice about her size to squeeze in and share the living space. In the middle, a provisory fireplace was created to provide some warmth, tiny amber flames already dancing inside, licking at centipede impaled on stick - breakfast, she guessed. From the outside softly poured in the comforting light of this beautiful morning. The interior felt quite cozy despite the slight stench of wet, rotting outer wood and bark.

But there was another smell Quill could distinguish out of these varying aromas - the coppery odor of dried blood. Thus she felt there was something unsettling in the air, almost as if an unfamiliar and ignoble creature was lurking somewhere near, hidden from plain sight.

Judging by the quiet sounds of birds' enthusiastic singing, and varying sounds of wild animals the mud-brain wolf that attacked them yesterday evening must have decided that the prey was not worth the strain.

 _Wait... They! Oh no, where has that archer gone to? -_ she muttered under her breath after the dizziness from looking around the place faded slightly.

Quill tried to stand up but failed when the jolt of pain interrupted her effort and clouded her mind once again.

 _Ouch! Dang it!_ The mouse squeaked as she just then noticed the reddened cloth around her abdomen. _How did I not see this earlier is beyond me._ \- she sighed - I _must have scraped my side against some sharp edge. Thus I shall admit, I am in huge debt of the guy..._

Quill smiled a bit at the thought of someone else watching over her just like The Reader did, nostalgic expression flooding her tender face as memories of past adventures came back to the mouse's mind. Such a shame she was all by herself once again...

But her train of thoughts was violently derailed when a strange figure blocked the light from the tree hole entrance casting a long shadow over little heroine's body, flames from the torch too weak to shove the darkness away. Quill felt her instincts kick in and in an instant, she was dashing for her sword, but the pain halted her midway as she lost her balance and tumbled forward.

The figure launched themselves at her, paws extended as if they were about to clench her throat and squeeze the life out of her. Quill backed up a bit and gathering what strength she still possessed she kicked her hind legs with great might. The blow connected with creature's face and knocked them back a bit resulting with a pained grunt as they stumbled and landed on the floor with a loud thud.

Quill's breath was rapid and rough but not because of fear. She was calm and collected like in every clash she had previously encountered, but the burning and shattering sensation in her right side made it hard to breathe.

She reached for the nearby torch only to be stopped by an excruciating surge of pain that made her feel sick. Black spots filled her vision and every second of holding onto consciousness became a tremendous struggle.

Quill sensed the creature inching towards her, fear finally reaching white mouse's mind. She readied herself to draw the last breath before more pain would send her to the land of lost lives but instead of suffering and death there came gentle touch and calming shushing as a pair of warm paws lifted her from the floor and helped her sit back down on the bedding with her back against the tree hole's wall.

White mouse's vision cleared out and in an instant regret and shame flooded her features as right there in front of her stood the same archer she helped out yesterday evening. His nose was visibly bleeding and he had his cheek cut by her claws.

He looked around the same age as her with chiseled features and small pink nose, several short whiskers attached to it. His eyes were of a different color each - one hazel with a tint of green and the other deep blue, both with a gritty and studious look in them. His ears were slightly bigger than hers but the right one was scraped. There also was a nasty scar coming down from his throat up to his right cheek - the one to which Quill delivered quite a blow. His fur was a mixture of grey and auburn, soft to the touch but roughed up a bit, probably from the short fight they had. The archer's body was slim and lacked strength, thus he seemed to rely more on the agility and speed than brute force. His left thigh, right above the knee joint, was wrapped in bandages - the souvenir from their last encounter with a hungry wolf. On his back were his weapons, a bow and a quiver with a little of long sharp arrows as well as a small but beautifully smithed dagger.

The white heroine felt his hands touch the cloth on her abdomen that was now soaked with blood and remove it from her side. Quill hissed as burning sensation followed when the cold morning air coming from the entrance touched the damaged tissue. The auburn mouse ripped another patch of cloth from his short green cloak and after dipping it in water bag with a mixture of various herbs he fixed it gently back onto her wound and secured it with a bandage around her stomach.

Quill was grateful for the comforting grip he gave her on the shoulder as it helped to cope with the pain. But something seemed off to her... Even though she hurt him pretty bad, he didn't say a word about it nor he was angry.

Yet apologies for the whole ordeal seemed indeed appropriate. Quill cleared her throat and tried to ignore the unpleasant stinging in her side.

 _I am so sorry for the kick. Would you like me to patch that scrape up?_

Then the surprise came - the auburn mouse looked at her, a small smile filling his features, and while giving her a small thankful bow, he mouthed _"Thank you"_ but no sound made its way into her ears.

 _Oh, you can't speak... -_ the archer just looked sadly at her and nodded - _What happened_ _to your voice? I mean... if you don't mind me asking. -_ Quill questioned uncertainly as a hint of worry but also curiosity sparked in her eyes.

The archer looked at her for a brief moment, long enough for Quill to make out perplexion and anxiety hidden behind those two originally colored irises. He was hesitating whether he could tell her or not.

The world around them seemed to calm down a bit, the forest became dormant and still as if waiting eagerly with anticipation for the answer to Quill's question. Birds' singing felt much more distant as if the two mice traveled a mile in an instant. The sound of bees buzzing stopped, leaving flowers' petals unattended. A crickety grasshopper assembly quieted like when a swift move of a baton signaled pianissimo.

But that ambiance lasted only a second or two, soft swish taking its' place when the archer made an unexpected move. He reached behind his back and after a quick metallic whizz, Quill could see the blade of his dagger in its full grandeur. The auburn mouse dragged his palm up the length of his windpipe gesturing a flow of his breath. Then he used the blunt side of the blade and slid it several times through the spot on his throat where a large scar was.

Quill deducted it was either a terrible accident or he was attacked and manifoldly wounded to the throat rendering him mute. Yet how he survived such damage was beyond her imagination. She felt sorry for the loss of his voice. Having to live with the awareness of never hearing your own singing or speech must have taken its toll on the archer's life, not mentioning a Sisyphean task of communicating with the other mice.

 _How long have you been like this? -_ Quill asked, a tint of worry and incredulity hidden in slight trembling of her voice.

The answer came in shape of four raised fingers and a slight look of shame radiating from those two-colored eyes.

 _Four weeks? Four Months? Seasons? -_ Quill kept on guessing until she spoke the last suggestion, to which he gently nodded. A whole year and this mouse was still alive and well by the looks of it. White coated heroine felt strange feeling crawl onto her heart... was it admiration, sympathy? Or maybe a mixture of both?

 _What's your name? Can you somehow tell me_ \- Her curiosity took the best of her, as she felt confused not knowing how to address him.

The archer fixed his grip on the dagger, already wielded in his right hand and with a few confident moves he carved six clearly visible letters in lightly colored wood that made the walls of the tree's hollow - his name, _Sariel._

 _Sariel... Nice name you have. I see you practiced that signature a lot, didn't you?_ Quill asked jokingly, a jovial smile filling her features as she attempted to cheer him up. She was really impressed to know he could write and read - a huge rarity when numbers of scrolls and writings were so scarce these days.

In return to her comment, Sariel made a few whizzing noises she guessed was a light-hearted chuckle. It was kind of funny, how hilarious his laugh sounded... maybe she could even call it cute.

 _I should thank you for the help, board and lodging. -_ Quill said with a smile as nostalgic memories of The Reader flooded her mind. - _Can_ _I help you with that wound to show you how sorry I am and offer you all the little amount of coins I possess to express my gratitude? -_ She said playfully, although she was truly willing to patch Sariel's snout to at least ease up the pain she caused him.

Sariel just shrugged with a small smirk. Fishing out of his little side pouch a small roll of fabric. He handed it to Quill and pointed at the water bag filled with some kind of herby potion he used on her own wound.

 _Are you a healer? -_ she curiously asked, wondering what effect the potion has and what are the ingredients as it surely could help her in quest of finding King's Glass.

Sariel shook his head and tried to form a simple enough explanation based on gestures for Quill to understand. He used his thumb to point at himself, then used index finger and middle finger to imitate someone walking in circles (they do have only four fingers though). At last, he reached a few times for some imaginary objects laying on the floor as if he wanted to pick them up.

Quill seemed to be a bit confused at first but after a short while her features filled with bits of realization so she asked for confirmation - You _mean you picked some things up while you were traveling?_ _So you are more of a nomad type then, no? Did you have any adventures on your escapades? -_ She became intrigued as to where he could have been to and what new experiences he encountered, damping the bandage and wrapping it around Sariel's snout in the meanwhile.

Sariel smiled and showed her a little spots missing patches of fur on his arm mouthing " _too many..._ ". He then swiped several times carving in floor yet another shape - something similar to a rectangle with lines of different length on it. Sariel indicated to the drawing and moved his arms as if hugging something dear to his heart, then pretending to lose it. He lost some kind of pocketbook, probably in the struggle with that mud-brained wolf!

 _Wait! The notebook!_ \- Quill almost screamed.

She looked at him wide-eyed almost slapping herself. Why didn't she think about it earlier! With reddened cheeks of embarrassment, she reached to her backpack which rested next to the bed she was sitting on and pulled out a notebook she carried on her every sally. Quill handed the conglomeration of paper sheets wrapped in leather to Sariel and gave him her pencil made of a piece of charcoal attached to a small steel shaft.

 _Here you are. Ughhh, I am such an idiot! The whole conversation would have been so_ _much easier if it wasn't for my forgettery! -_ Quill quickly squealed, angry at herself as shame plagued her face.

Sariel just stared at the notebook in his hand, eyes wide as Sarffog's spread open jaws and when Quill began squeaking angrily tormenting her soul with guilt he just burst out laughing. With one arm, the other clenched around his stomach as he continued the series of whizzing noises, he clumsily opened the notepad and began shakily scribbling down _"When_ _you angry on yourself, you so funny!"_

After calming down a bit he put his hand on Quill's shoulder and looked in her distressed eyes as if he was saying "Girl, did I need that laugh...", a smug grin on his face jokingly mocking her behavior.

Quill's mood instantly brightened up, big goofy smile settling on her cream-colored snout. She ushered him to write something down while she got up and made her way to the now a bit charred centipede. Her injury still bothered her but not that much when she had someone to keep her company like The Reader always did.

When the meal was served on the bark plates Quill made with the help of her sword they both enjoyed the taste of a bit burned bug while listening to the mesmerizing sounds the forest around them created. It was already noon and the sun gave out a pleasant warmth as aromas of drying grass and saskatoon mixed with the smell of roasted meat.

The meat itself had a strong but somewhat salty taste to it, a bit stiff and smooth on the outside as if made of small strings braided together.

Sariel finished his dish first and continued writing in Quill's notebook as she slowly continued devouring the bug with gladsomeness painted on her face. He flipped a few pages and turned it towards Quill for her to see his message. She took a glance and smiled. Although his cursive was a bit clunky she could considerably easily distinguish each word.

 _You are very welcome. -_ Quill answered kindly to his thank-you for the meal. - _Albeit it_ _was your catch and your doing with the fireplace. I just sliced it and added some caraway seed I found in my rucksack._

As she got to the bottom of her plate Sariel finished writing the letter and with an endearing smile, he handed her his opus.

Quill sat down next to him on the bedding and taking the sheet of paper in both her paws she began reading. The longer she stared with her dark-brown eyes at those letters, the more different expressions Sariel could distinguish settling on her face; from curiosity, through worry, sadness and sympathy, to dumbfoundedness, amusement and happiness, finished with an amused giggle.

The missive filled the whole parchment, words he could not speak anymore charted with charcoal, shortly spinning the tale of his life;

 _Dear Quill_

 _There are no words capable of carrying my gratitude to you for saving my soul from that Lobo the hunted me that evening. You endangered your well-being, even your very life, to someone, whose feckless subsistence is not even worth half of that risk. After we made it to the safety, the impact of the exhaustion knocked us both unconscious. When I woke up it was still dark outside. I wanted to thank you somehow and pay the debt you granted me with so I checked if you were all right, dressed your side and ventured out in search of something for breakfast. Thus do not thank me cause we are far from even_. _One centipede and a patched up wound will never be enough._

 _My voice… well, I was ambushed by vicious Arcane soldiers while I was searching for the last of King's Guard - Argus. With me were my sister Chloe and a few merchants. She was the only living member of my kindred after our parents were slaughtered in the Great War. Those monsters murdered all my comrades and took her away from me. They jabbed me several times in my throat and left me to dry up from blood loss. The pain was soul-sucking and I felt my lifeforce pouring out of my veins second after second. But I was not afraid of death. I feared for the dear to my heart sister. And somehow this fear kept me alive._

 _A group_ _of scavengers found me the day later and took me to your home town. I recovered from my injuries and determined to rescue Chloe I set off to the woods to investigate. That was when I met the town's scout, Malik. He taught me how to use daggers and honored me with his own weapon right before the day he vanished during one of his patrols. Yesterday I was in hope to scare him up. On my way to the main gate, a friend of mine asked me to bring him a few herbs for his medicine. Careless as I am, I ventured deep into the woods at sunset and without the care in the world, I got to work on those ingredients for his potion. I am still trying to figure out the cause of my distraction for the next thing I saw were that mongrel's shiny fangs and your_ _graceful_ _moves._

 _To set a few matters straight:_

 _One - marksmanship was dinned into me by my father when I was still little. He taught me all the knowledge he possessed about these woods and how to survive out here._

 _Two - I live in a small stub on the outskirts of the village. Nothing much, but I really do fancy peace and tranquillity. I figured you should know that in case of an emergency or when you would need any help._ _I've heard you went on a voyage to rescue your uncle and I hope you found him all well and in one piece._

 _Three - Bear in mind I am a bit riotous and rough around the edges thus_ _I was granted with_ _shredded_ _ears_.

 _Four_ _\- I found your red bandana. You most likely lost it in the fight but I hope you have a sewing kit on you_ _for it has a hole in it._

 _Five_ _\- To confirm your belief that I am a gentlemouse, and not a savage monster ready to pounce at any time, probably saving myself from another of your mighty blows to the head I shall pay you a compliment. So here goes;_

 _"The beauty of your smile coruscate with warmth and kindliness like a waterfall bathed with the lights of aurora borealis." - I hope it appeases your bloodthirst._

 _Your newly acquainted friend_

 _Sariel_

A couple of hours later the two mice, after some more time of well-deserved rest, ventured forth on a journey back home. Each had one hand wrapped around the other's neck for support to cut through the dense green foliage despite their injuries and supplies Quill and Sariel had to carry.

Sariel was, to say the least, mildly surprised about how strong-willed and resourceful his white-and-cream coated female companion was. She turned out to be a true phenomenon excelling from among all those pretty and delicate does he had seen during his stay in her home village. Sariel has never seen a doe wielding a sword and with such expertise or ease.

Meanwhile, Quill smiled to herself, glad she became friends with Sariel. It fell out he can keep himself collected in combat but also has an empathic and kind soul, not mentioning his good manners or intellect.

 _I suppose he could be a huge help in finding the King's Glass since my dear Reader disappeared - she thought. - Sariel seems trustworthy... but there is this problem with his lost voice. It would be hard to communicate quickly without speaking. I don't want to endanger any more lives than mine. I already carry the burden of witnessing so much death and conflagration. Ehh... I guess I will figure this out later when we reach home._

And so they continued through the high grass, rocky shelves covered with moss and thick ferns until their eyes reached the sight of Quill's home village's mighty gates.


	3. Home sweet home

Chapter 3 - Home sweet home

It was a pleasantly warm and sun-drenched afternoon, full gamut of variable aromas filling the moisty forest air, the smell of dried artichokes and mushrooms or grilled bugs, all coming from the moss-covered stone chimneys of wooden dwells built around the small stream which was brightly shining with the light of golden sunrays lively dancing on it's surface. Country lanes sprinkled with gravel and sand twined like an ivy, around trees and cottages, through gangplanks, a small buzzing market, further into the old watermill and boisterous forgery to reach their shared destination - the batwing-like gate guarding the village against it's oppressors. The sound of children's laugh intervined with grown-ups' conversations and shouts, occasionally dulled by the clang of steel or ballads being sung.

But despite this local ruckus, the whole ordeal seemed so peaceful, probably due to the size of surrounding flora that gave out a magically intimate touch to it. The hospitality beaming from every doorstep would make anyone feel safe - feel at home.

Imagine then, sticking out like a sore thumb the miserable image of two battered, ruffled, bloody and mud-stained mice leaning against each other, making their way to the sprawl: first one limping, the second bent over a little from the pain in their side.

Quill was completely worn out, though she had to keep on walking, otherwise, Sariel - her exhausted companion - would collapse on the spot. The journey back home turned out to be more grueling than everything she has yet experienced. Sariel's added weight on her shoulder was the main factor of their slow and energy-draining progress. Usually, Quill would have to carry her equipment and supplies for a few days - nothing she could not handle. But the injury she sustained to the side combined with dense forest foliage and uneven soggy soil, add the extra weight of another wounded mouse... This was a bit too much even for her. She thought about leaving Sariel somewhere safe and trot to the village for help, but the smell of blood from his wound would attract predators and put the rescue party's lives at stake.

However her destination - the small, moss covered habitation etched in the wood of sturdy-looking beech log, it's wooden casing and stone walls sticking out a bit from the said balk - was closer and closer with every step forward the miserable twosome made. Obviously, they have already attracted a whole sea of dwellers' meddling eyes by then and good for them as Quill was soon released from the task of carrying Sariel's weight and helped to her home. The word of white heroine's return spread quickly, so healers were promptly informed about the comers in need of their medical knowledge.

The fact that Quill became the character of chansonniers' ballads and yarns seemed so unreal. It has only been two weeks since she ventured into the northern forest and crossed the Great Swamp to find King's Glass, yet the word spread across the kingdom with scud of the feather carried by wind. Now every mouse visiting nearest tavern could hear the stories of an ordinary dweller turning into a brave hero armed with magical sword and venturing forth to experience dangerous adventure while trying to save the kingdom. Though it seems that some words were misspelled - for one Quill's a _heroine_ , not a _hero_...

Oh how lovely it felt for the young white-coated doe, after the whole ordeal of redressing her injured side at the infirmary and taking care of Sariel, to finally cross the doorstep leading to her place. Home, sweet home, the smell of her favorite leek and mushroom custard cooking in modest fireplace's low heat taking over the ubiquitous medieval odour, the warmth of amber flames spreading through the air, the prickly gravel path commuted for soft stone floor's soothing touch… Well, it did not last long though, as an old, grey-coated elderly mouse with eyes full of wisdom and an angry expression on their white-bearded muzzle greeted her from the entresol across the living room.

Her uncle - Argus - was up the small set of stairs leading to the mezzanine, sitting in his favourite lounge chair, a fair sized book resting on his thigh as he stared Quill in the eye with a daunting glare so filled with, anxiety and anger that Quill felt her insides writhe as she tried to choke out an apology and somehow explain the cause of a lenghtened absence. The atmosphere became tense and uneasy as white mouse standed by the entrance unable to utter a single word. She stayed silent repented of her dissapearance and readied herself for the oncoming blast. But instead of giving the white mouse a schooling Argus stood up and made his way downstairs. When he approached his niece, her heart started pounding against her chest like a blacksmith's hammer that hits an anvil. Quill bowed her head in shame and closed her eyes, not sure of what was the uncle about to do, only to stiffen with shock when she found herself embraced in a bearhug.

" _I was so worried…!_ "- Argus spoke to his niece with a trembling voice and hugged her even harder. Those words were enough for Quill as she let the fresh tears, she didn't even notice welling up i her eyes, trickle down her furry cheeks, mixing up with earth and sweat into black droplets that left stains on her coat.

" _I thought I lost you Quill. I was so afraid when you did not come back home last_ _night. You were supposed to take a quick walk around the western forest and turn up for supper, but..." -_ Argus' voice broke, his head rested on top of Quill's as the aged mouse was on the verge of tears. The smell of dried up mud and blood, or sweat drenched fur did not bother him any bit. Right now the only thing that mattered to him was the mouse dearest to his heart came back, safe and sound. - " _Where have you been? What happened? You've never came back late, so either you let curiosity and cockiness guide you right into a real tangle or..._ "

" _Uncle, you know very well that I am never cocky, I would rather call it self-confidence?_ " _-_ Quill retorted with a weak smile, sniffling afterwards.

Old mouse gently smiled at her, his eyes still watery. - " _Keep telling_ _this to yourself_ , _punk_." - He joked, to Quill's relief.

Argus was Quill's mentor and caretaker since her parents died in the Great War that broke out over a decade ago. Once the King's guardian, a mouse of valor, he taught his niece all the knowledge he had learned the hard way through all those years. He did not speak much though his words were always full of wisdom, his heart of gold and filled with compassion, especially if it regarded Quill.

" _So_ _, who's been in need of your help this time? Was it crazy ol' Molteer?_ _Had he been chasing fireflies and wandered too far away from the gates again?_ " - Argus teased, letting younger mouse off the hug, though keeping his paws on her shoulders.

" _I shall tell you later uncle for now I could use a bath first and, if I may, a bowl full of this deliciously looking custard_ " - Quill answered, motioning with her head in the direction of a cauldron with steaming dish and doors behind it that lead to the bathroom.

Usually other mice would be using a piggin in the livingroom to wash themselves while standing in it, but since Quill was of an opposite sex to Argus and more prickly about her privacy, she, with her uncle's permission, transformed a small larder into a bit obscure bathroom with a bathtub, a small window and decent wooden doors that could only be locked from the inside.

" _Help yourself to the food as I will be preparing you a warm, herby bath._ " - Argus let go of his niece, smiled widely and taking a wooden bucket with him he made his way to the water well at the back of their house.

He was glad that Quill came back alive and unhurt... well, almost. Argus was worried about the wound on her side. Sure he had seen worse than that and patched Quill up when she bleed on many ocasions, but this means she got into the fight not so far from the village. What if the wicked creatures that had been keeping him imprisoned were closing in on them.

He could not lose his dear white-coated niece to those monsters. But restraining her to the bounds of the home village would not stop Quill from going out on ocasional sally. Argus did not want to keep her locked, he knew the little heroine was free spirit capable of fending for herself.

Although she told him she could no longer feel the presence of The Reader. They were her ultimate guardian, the unconcievable care and determination in pure form. Without them Quill was more vulnerable and Argus' age held him from covering his niece's rear in awaiting battles.

The Reader - a mysterious entity of unknown gender originating from different dimension, coming in dark shades of purple and navy blue with multifarious shapes of its body, though always wearing a mask with tear-like markings. A warden tall as an oak, towering over their summoner. Silent as night, dormant and still... yet they take great care of the summoner's well-being, they guide them through life's binds and clear their path of obstacles it puts on their way.

The unsettling thoughts and dark scenarios kept rushing through his mind as Argus emptied another bucket full of water into the bathtub, trying to find solutions and answers to each one of their problems and form up an emergency strategy.

Meanwhile, Quill seated herself on her favourite stool, carrying a wooden bowl full of delicious mushroom custard her uncle had prepared. It's strong aroma felt comforting and inviting, hot steam letting the mouse relax her tense muscles as she took first bite of this culinary art. In an instant all the pain and exhaustion left her and in came the soothing warmth, reach gamut of flavours pleasingly caressing Quill's little tongue.

Gods, this was the true ambrosia amongst all dishes of the entire world! Warming, ritch, creamy, and the smell, ah that smell...! Usually, dominant in the air were the harsh odor of smoke, steel and the stench of mold, or the smell of dying leaves and earth, given that mice live at the very bottom of the forest floor.

Having meals alone or with her uncle were one of those few moments for Quill to reflect on past actions, ponder about present and dream about future. And she did just that...

 _Wonder how's Sariel doing -_ Quill thought to herself after taking a seat once again, content with her helping of Argus' custard _. - Bet he surprised... no, infuriated some of the villagers when they bombarded him with questions or concerns and the only thing he could do was to give them that sheepish weak grin and just shrug it off. Even though he looked like a dead mouse walking the lumpish face he gave these mice was the dumbest and funniest thing I witnessed this week_. - cream coated mouse chuckled a little remembering her companion's goofy expression. Of all she experienced in those last two days, Quill chose this particular memory to ponder on. She took a great liking toward the mute buck, mainly because him being mute created a new challenge for the brave doe to somehow communicate and she loved new challenges. Besides, Sariel's carefree attitude and jovial approach towards the life itself made him even more intriguing.

Throughout the whole awkwardness of the battering walk the twosome experienced this morning, Quill had some time, between trying to carry on walking and evening her breath, to contemplate about the story Sariel shared with her. At that time the white mouse felt tiny bit perplexed - how many of those ruby-plated troops must have ambushed the hazel buck, so he could not defend the caravan with his bow and arrows? "Darklings" have never crawled up this close to the southern territory and in these numbers, anyway. Something very wrong was happening and she ought to find out what exactly.

She had to visit Sariel.

" _Quill, dear_ _, the bath is ready!" -_ Argus announced across the room. - " _And don't forget to scrape all that mud off from behind those adorable big ears of yours! You've already stained the counter."_

 _"Loogh who'sh talghing" -_ The young mouse retorted, mouth filled with food. She gulped it down and continued talking, a fake insult plastered on her face. _"The only reason we aren't living in a moss-grown house of spider webs is because I am the one cleaning this place." -_ Quill showed off her impressive set of pearly teeth in a sly grin.

This rendered her uncle confused and embarrassed to the point of loss for words. He stood there in one spot trying to find a strong counterargument until the old mouse spotted something sticking to her niece's whiskers. Argus focused his eyesight and before you knew he was chortling like a giggly child - the rare view to which only Quill was witness.

 _"You're such a baby!_ _Look at your snout, all covered in my custard!" -_ The elder blurted out between spasms of laughter that now shook his entire body.

Quill turned away from the hoary-haired mouse standing in the bathroom door, trying to hide the embarrassment. Her face became red as a strawberry, white fur soiled with mud did very little to help cover up the blush.

 _"Oh_ _, shush you!" -_ She muttered unhappily trying to compose herself. - _"If it bothers you so much, I will be on my way to wash it away. I'm sure you don't want to hear my story before I dissapear in that room behind you for at least an hour."_

Argus stopped laughing instantly and cleared his throat, pretending as if the whole incident never happened.

 _"Alright, alright... I'm sorry. But at least use a napkin or something, otherwise it will be hard for me to focus on anything other than your whiskers."_

 **A/N**

 **Chapter 3 finally here, right? I know, I am really sorry for the huge delay. It may stay like that though (I might not have the amount of free time like during school, but I sure will not abandon this fic). The truth is I wrote down a script for the story but managed to lose/delete it somehow from my hard drive so for the story to live up to your expectations I had to rewrite this chapter three times...**

 ** _"And you called me an idiot in chapter 2?!"_**

 **Shush Quill! I am the writer here.**

 **" _A bad one, too"_**

 **You're right. I apologise.**

 ** _"Well, at least you have managed to decide on the final form for this chapter..."_**

 **Thanks.**

 ** _"Don't thank me, be grateful for your Readers' patience."_**

 **Thank you guys!**

 **As always, reviews are much appreciated!**


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